humans are so cute, when we say goodbye we put our arms around each other and to show we love someone we bring them flowers. we say hello by holding each other’s hand, and sometimes tiny little dewdrops form in our eyes. for pleasure we listen to arrangements of sounds,…
you must be fun at parties
I’m a fucking blast, goddammit.
Everyone likes talking about the futility of life, right?
Look, I love life, it’s great. People are great. But part of why we’re great is that we’re literally SO FUCKING SHITTY. If that makes any sense. I just hate when people are like “wow! Everything is awesome, us people we’re swell, just chillin and partying all the time wow” that’s not what being human is. Being human is about being an inherently shitty, self-interested creature that sometimes does really great things before we die. We’re all terrible. We’re the fucking worst. But that’s part of what makes us so fucking rad.
• 7 August 2014 • 15,465 notes
if people stopped trying to preach world peace and acceptance and love and maybe got fucking angry and fought back for once, things would probably change.
Hatred is a form of love.
Don’t peacefully protest, go punch someone in the goddamn face.
I’m sick of this anachronistic hippie bullshit that everyone is spilling these days, it’s fucking obnoxious.
Just get mad, dammit.
• 19 May 2014 • 19 notes
Okay, here it is, a review.
Phi, by Truckfighters, was released in 2007. Practically no one knows about it. But holy fuck, they should. Is the singer’s voice awesome? Hell no. Is the guitar technical and advanced? Nope. Is the music revolutionary? No.
But holy hell, these guys can fucking paint a picture.
I want you to close your eyes. Close ‘em real tight so that you see stars. Now play this album. Now see those stars screaming past your face at 6 billion miles per hour. Now imagine that you’re in a classic car. The motor is made from twisted organic material. A beating heart within your black machine. You’re on a collision course with absolutely everything. You’re James Dean and the entire unforgiving, dark universe is your fucking telephone pole to crash into, leaving you a pile of burning flesh, a skeletal frame stalking through the darkest recesses of the galaxy. You are the revenant of the cosmos, a burning terror, screaming through the night. But to anyone watching from afar, you’re just a comet, blasting across the light-polluted sky. Listening to this album is like falling into a black hole. Time is stretched. You’re stretched. Your entire body is blasted away until you’re a blank slate and you are fucking the entire space-time continuum with a dick made of chrome and sandblasted rock.
That’s what this album sounds like.
I have no idea how these guys did this, but holy shit, it is fucking excellent. Listen. You won’t regret it.
• 4 March 2014 • 6 notes
Anonymous said: i meant what you disliked about weed culture. you explained what it does to you, but i'm more curious about what you think about the community rather than you think it's stupid.
oh okay, well this is a super long answer, you ready?
A) Hippies: The idealism behind the hippie movement (i.e. free love, peace, pacifism, etc) is an idea that faded out of cultural relevance decades ago. Hell, the original hippie movement only lasted for like, a decade, at the most. After Woodstock it frittered away. Punk eventually replaced it as the foremost counter-culture movement. And punk never dies. Because punk is angry as fuck. The sad truth behind human nature is that nothing gets accomplished through peace. Nothing gets accomplished through inaction. Yes, the hippies protested and such, but it wasn’t organized. The only organized marches during that era were founded by the folk movement (bob dylan, joan baez, etc) and the civil rights movement. They accomplished so much more. The hippies just sort of tagged along for the ride. The hippie movement was fundamentally insincere, which is why the punk movement took control of counterculture. It was mad. It was nihilistic. It believed that the only way to truly stop a cultural, political, or social issue was to scream at it, punch it in the face, and kick it until it was dead (metaphorically, most of the time). They did just that. The punk movement was and always has been on the forefront of gay rights (among other movements) across the world. They call out social injustice. The hippie movement just blew smoke in its face and shoved flowers down the barrels of its guns. There’s a reason it got blown away.
B) This leads me to my second point. Contemporary weed and hippie culture is just children (and we ARE children in the long scheme of things). frantically hanging onto a nostalgia for an era that we cannot possibly be nostalgic for. If you’re a teenager right now, in 2013, and you call yourself a hippie, you’re not. You’re just not. Because there hasn’t been a hippie since the 1960s. 70s at the latest. The only hippies around today are in their 60s and 70s and are shitting and pissing themselves in nursing homes, filling prescriptions for their medicinal marijuana.
C) Which leads me to my last point. The weed culture is, fundamentally, self destructive. You’re all about the legalization of weed but do you get that the minute weed is legalized the culture you’re a part of will no longer be a counter-culture? You smoking weed will be just like me smoking cigarettes. You’ll smoke outside a coffee shop and old people will cough rudely when they walk by you. It won’t be cool to smoke weed anymore, because it will be corporate. Oh and you can wave goodbye to all your beloved strands and such. There won’t be independent weed growers anymore because they’ll be bought out by (most likely) big tobacco. Oh and it’ll be taxed, of course, since it became a government operation. Say adios to private farms, your local dealer, independent head shops, and anything similar to that because you’ll be buying weed at the 7-11 and you’ll be just like everyone else. Which would ruin the whole image the weed culture has of “oh, you don’t smoke weed? That must mean you’re not chill and cool.” The whole outlook of the movement, at least from my experience, is one of someone on a very very high horse (pun absolutely intended) who sees people NOT part of the culture as their lesser.
D) In conclusion, I hate weed culture because it a) is self-defeating on every level, b) pretentious and nostalgic for a dead movement, c) useless. It gets nothing done. Nothing is accomplished.
Sorry about how long this is, but I get very heated about this topic.
At least I put a lot of thought into it.
• 19 December 2013 • 29 notes
- Child (recently tendered resignation from this position)
- Burnout (still employed)
- Punk (this is always, probably)
- Romantic, though hates to admit it.
- Sexually active
- Cowgirl (get it? Positions? Hahaha).
- Anarchist! (8th grade-10th grade)
- Communist! (10th grade-11th grade. Read communist manifesto).
- Neither of those things.
- Capitalist, by default, apparently.
- Unemployed (hates the words poet and musician. They sound dumb).
- Sandwich Maker (read: “engineer”).
- Sales associate.
- Recovering. (Ongoing. [Read: indefinitely])
Recently read about:
- A meta-material (graphene) no thicker than an atom,
which can hold more than a thousand times its weight.
- Some kid, drunk, invincible, callous, and rich, who
killed four people with a car.
- Your favorite albums this year (including, but not
limited to: Talon of the Hawk, 20/20, and Bulldozer
by Kevin Devine, who wore unfashionable cargo
pants when we met him and you looked so happy
the cold didn’t matter to anyone but the coffee).
If I asked a graphene angel to hold up my head
I don’t think it could, but I think sometimes you can.
And that kid? I could’ve been him. Maybe.
If the money around here wasn’t so tight, and my dad
didn’t have to send my mom checks in the mail,
even though he could just as easily slip them
underneath the front door of her apartment.
If I asked you to list your favorite stories I’ve told,
or your favorite songs, or your favorite poems,
or your favorite strands of my hair, I think you
probably could, and that makes little (to no) sense.
And so little makes sense, really,
But take it from someone who has stabbed himself
countless times, that this one thing can make
a lot of sense if I let it. However, in the spirit of
lists, and list making, and bullet points,
here is a list of some things that make sense:
- I have never seen anyone look more beautiful
while arranging men’s boxers.
- Start: I dropped my glasses by the dam
to see if you would let me jump.
- You made me go around the wall instead.
- I could’ve handled jumping the three feet.
- (but in retrospect, you probably had the right idea)
- You call me a fucker, and I don’t doubt it
- and neither do you.
- The air I choke out of your chest.
- The air-raid siren you set off
with every whispered theory.
- A scar.
- The sound my teeth make when they click
- How every time you punch my arm
I hope to Christ that I bruise.
- Spilled soy-sauce.
- Your surprisingly poorly assembled confession
at your school when I got off the bus.
- The bus I slept on.
I could keep going, but I think you get it.
Recently, I read about:
- Chaos Theory: In which out of chaos comes, inevitably,
order, of some kind or another. Picture a desert full of
bombs, roadside bombs, and we’re in Iraq, and two of them
are set off at just the right moment, miles apart, and we’re
standing on them and as we’re blown to pieces we catch
a quick glimpse of one another, riding this quick burning
fuel, kicking up a dust cloud that just so happens to be the
exact dimensions of all the bombs together, which all
equal out to 3.1415….you get the picture. Anyways,
when the investigators come in they figure out that
although the bombs are irregularly and randomly placed,
each one is RIGHT where it should be in a larger, overarching
pattern of thermite rain, or shrapnel hail. Ergo, chaos theory.
Or at least my understanding of it.
- Predestination, or Fate: Hard to swallow. I control every move I make
in this world, and you control yours, but we experience time as linear,
even though, in truth, time exists all at once. So each move we make, has
on a technicality (which, sidenote, you love to say), happened already.
But we still have a choice. Sorta.
- How to apologize for almost killing someone, indirectly.
- The Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway, which I liked much more
the second time around, when I wasn’t beating it to death
and instead was having coffee with it, to apologize for
nearly beating it to death that one time.
- A folded up poem scrawled on paper that I’ve read every day
for weeks now. It’s starting to fray because it’s sandwiched
in my wallet, right between my faulty debit card
and a coupon for free pizza, which I have
(and god knows how) yet to redeem.
Things I have learned:
- That being punk doesn’t mean shoving a safety pin through your
earlobe, throwing on a pair of doc martens and calling it a day, but
instead is more about not really giving a shit about what people think,
but also caring a lot about what people think. Basically, punk is confusing,
but I’m glad I’m allowed to continue to dress how I do, because
it’s way too cold to shave my head, and I look like Herman Munster
when I wear Doc Martens.
- That being in love doesn’t mean writing your name in hearts
all over all of my notebooks, and it actually DOES mean saying sorry.
- That working in retail during the holiday season is absolute hell
but that you meet some pretty rad people sometimes while doing
- That I’ve learned more over the past year than I have in nearly 20 years.
And that’s scary as all hell.
- A LOT about college level tutoring.
- That everything is really weird, and things happen you didn’t think ever would,
and sometimes you’ll crash into a coat rack while you’re watching a girl
you’ve just met walk past you, and then in a few weeks you’ll be kissing her.
- That you are the most condescending, sarcastic, piece of shit, but so am I.
- That I pretend to know a lot, but I’m really pretty lost.
- That sometimes the sun will hit you just right, and then you’ll hit me,
not literally, but pretty much like a punch to the fucking jaw,
and it’ll drop, and I’ll be standing there, like a goddamned fool.
- That you breathe in patterns I’ve only ever dreamt of.
If we tallied up our losses vs. our wins we would most definitely be
the underdogs in next season’s sports movie;
raging bull, rocky, the titans, miracle. Whatever.
Last time either of us bothered to fight we got kicked
so many times we thought we had swallowed our own teeth
so we stopped mouthing off, for fear of exposing our own
bleeding gums, tattered tongues.
But now we’re spitting teeth across the ice,
staining our jerseys burgundy.
Because no one
and I mean no one
is going to fuck with us
and get away with it.
File under: Cover Letter, Resume, Application.
• 19 December 2013 • 43 notes
“Girls work on their looks, not their minds, because they know boys are stupid, not blind.”
Unknown (via lolitandaddy)
honestly, this is the stupidest fucking quote I have ever fucking heard holy shit. I get what they’re trying to say here, but there are so many better ways of saying it. You can’t narrow down a massive part of human behavior into a single blanket statement, that’s just fucking lazy and, well, kind of mean, dude. I think a better quote would be: “due to a massive series of social changes and styles and general evolution of social interaction over the entire course of human history, a large percentage of female human beings are very concerned with the way they look and are under the assumption that looks by themselves are the only thing in which male human beings are interested in when they are seeking a mate, as most animals are prone to doing. While in most animals looks, or displays of bright colors and the like, are very important to said animal’s mating habits, human beings have the distinct advantage of being the highest evolved creature on the planet, and as such, are endowed with extremely advanced social and emotional skills and qualities. As this is so, males and females of the species look for a combination of certain emotional and personality traits that each individual finds the most alluring, attracting, and comforting to them, with physical features actually effecting their final decision on a mate to a much lesser degree than one would expect. Males and Females of the species are extremely alike on an emotional level, and both sexes need practically an identical set of emotional comforts from their chosen mate. It is also worth noting that human beings are one of the only species that practices long-term, monogamous, homosexual relationships, (which, if you’ll pardon my language, is pretty fucking cool), further evidence that both genders of homo sapiens do, in fact, not only look for most of the exact same emotional aspects that they require in a partner but also that they desire most of the same comforts and the like as well. Not to mention that they can find these desirable traits in males, females, trans-people (because humans are so advanced that we can literally choose what gender we want to be. How fucking metal is that? SO FUCKING METAL) or any one their fucking heart desires.
In conclusion, the above quote is stupid for a myriad of reasons. But all I’m trying to say here is that “girls” don’t do one single fucking thing in an all inclusive way, and “boys” don’t do one single fucking thing in an all inclusive way. Boys are not stupid. Girls are not only concerned with their looks because “they know boys are stupid, not blind”.
Here’s the final breakdown for you to really summarize everything up in a nice, neat list. I hope there’s no confusion:
- Don’t make blanket statements about an entire half of the human population.
- We are a very fucking complex species.
- We each have a set of personality traits that we look for when trying to find someone to love and to love us.
- Looks play a surprisingly small part in our decision making on the whole love matter.
- Boys are not stupid
- Neither are girls.
- Some are for both genders.
- Speaking of genders,
- We as a species have the ability and the free will to actually choose what gender we would be more comfortable being.
- That is really fucking cool.
- We find all different sorts of things attractive. We find all sorts of personalities attractive. We are a highly evolved, incredibly complex species, with advanced decision-making capabilities. If the quote above was indeed a true statement of fact, we would be nothing but a bunch of braindead idiots, and we would murder the ugly people.
- That’s just fucked up, no one wants that world, yo.
- the end.
- love, Nick.
(Source: x-s-o, via forever2infinite)
• 15 August 2013 • 234,014 notes
look basically all I was trying to say was:
- so first off, some fact checking:
- the stars closest to us are very much alive, and will be for millions of years. They will outlive you and I and most likely humanity. That’s cool.
- second, don’t ever question that I don’t appreciate this universe and it’s vast mindfuckery.
- third, when you say something is tragically beautiful, you immediately bring philosophy into the picture, and therefore psychology as well.
- finally, the part where I’m not being a douchebag:
- how can you say that any part of this beautiful universe is even remotely tragic?
- I mean, even though we are tiny and our lives mean nothing, we still get to experience this place. We get to look up at the stars and say to ourselves, “goddamn, that’s beautiful”.
- That’s cool right?
- I mean, think about stars for a second here: they are massive orbs of fire screaming through space. And in the long run they literally mean NOTHING to the rest of the universe. Nada.
- Now if those massive fireballs mean nothing, (and there are literally TRILLIONS upon trillions of stars), imagine how little we matter. As a species. 6 something billion people. On a tiny little rock.
- Furthermore, imagine how little we as individuals matter.
- DUDE WE MEAN NOTHING.
- WE ARE USELESS TO THE UNIVERSE
- COMPLETELY AT ITS WHIM.
- What really pisses me off is this use of the word “tragic”. Because when I look up at the stars, when I think about those stars dying, I don’t think that’s tragic.
- I think that’s incredibly beautiful.
- Think about it: when stars die they return to the original materials that they were created from.
- And when we die, we return to the same materials we were created from.
- AND WE SHARE THOSE MATERIALS.
- We are stars.
- Honest to god, we are little tiny chunks of stars.
- That’s beautiful.
- Not to sound cheesy.
- Also, cheese is made up of stars too.
- Anyways, point being, death isn’t tragic at all. Death is a beautiful, incredible, wonderful thing.
- That person, or that star, or that planet, or that anything really
- it got to be part of all of this, this cosmic array of complete and utter chaos.
- in conclusion:
- nothing is “tragically beautiful”. Get rid of that modifier. If you say something is tragically beautiful, you mean that it is just beautiful.
- Because it is.
- love, Nick
• 13 July 2013 • 11 notes
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN
YES SOME OF THE LIGHT IS COMING FROM DEAD STARS BUT NOT ALL OF THEM ARE DID YOU STUPID PRETENTIOUS FUCK.
Look. The sky is the sky. It is not tragically beautiful. Things cannot be “tragically beautiful”. Tragedy implies great emotional pain at a HUMAN level. What emotional pain are you feeling when you see that a star is dead. Oh my, a star has died. There are 6 trillion bazillion more (disclaimer: not the exact number of stars). The stars are not living. They are not creatures. They do not feel. They exist for millions of years and then they implode and create a supernova and sometimes a black hole. Stars are not “tragically beautiful” so shut up with your stupid hippie text post pastel grunge soft beach whatever blog. Dammit.
(Source: acid-daisies, via channingtaintyum)
• 13 July 2013 • 231,730 notes
There is something so special about this city. Despite the horrendous traffic, the lack of space, and the blistering hustle of this place-many of us long for this madness called New York. With a view like this whatever negative things that I may be feeling is thrown out the window, when I see this! Oh New York, I love you!!!
when I stay in New York my view is of the brick wall of the building next to the shitty hotel in china town that I generally stay in. And I still love New York. You can’t know it until you see the worst parts of it. That’s how it is for any place, hell any person too. But awful bullshit and all (and there’s a lot more awful shit then just shitty hotel rooms and traffic. There’s murder, there’s racism, there’s robberies, there’s rape, there’s muggings, there’s bullshit police work, there’s corruption and so much more). But even with all of that crap, it’s still the best. It beats the hell out of most places anyway.
(Source: g-y-p-s-y-h-e-a-r-t-s, via maptokaydee)
• 12 July 2013 • 95,605 notes
Why don’t we question utensils? Like who decided that spoons forks and knives would be the universal silverware for all eternity
Actually, Knives have obviously been around forever, but Forks and spoons started showing up in roman times, as it was customary for wealthy guests to bring their own fine eating utensils to meals. However, after the fall of the Roman empire and the commencement of the dark ages, the fork and knife were lost once again. For a very long time most of the civilized world went on eating with their hands, up until the mid to late 1600s when the fork and spoon were invented separately, again, the inventor or inventors not even knowing of the existence of the ancient roman fork and spoon. Once archeologists discovered the ancient roman fork and spoon sets they actually solved the exact question you’re asking: Because they work the best yo. Plus look at forks. Forks are fucking cool looking. Like these crazy little trident thingies. Forks man.
• 17 April 2013 • 54 notes
Chance, this kind of meeting. A dot of enmity, a flicker of desperation before, and now…well now, fuck it I guess. I’m falling away again and through this haze of barbiturates and stimulants there’s something out there, and that’s pretty beautiful. I didn’t think this could happen and now it is and that’s perplexing to me, I guess. Minutes feel like hours and I can only imagine what hours, what daytime shall bring. I haven’t even felt your hands darling, but I know they’ll fit perfectly in mine, just like the rain does when I catch it out the car window, and I can’t see because you’re splashing in currents onto the lenses of my glasses from the puddles on the concrete. I can’t see a thing but I can see every damn thing. Four hours and this? I can’t imagine days going by quicker.
• 16 April 2013 • 6 notes
Nick’s Zombie Apocalypse Plan
- I’m assuming that in the case of an actual zombie apocalypse there would be reports trickling in slowly and eventually it would peak and everything would come crashing into zombie death-mode. But for the sake of this plan, I’m skipping the preparation when given time to get ready.
- So I wake up, and discover, low and behold, the zombie apocalypse has begun.
- Grab baseball bat and scimitar (which my friend gave me, very generously).
- Get dressed quietly. Jeans (not skinny. Slim. Gives room to move while still not being baggy enough to be a running/zombies grabbing me hazard). Knee high gym socks for extra protection/storage space for knives. Old Adidas (good for running). Simple t-shirt. Flannel shirt over that. Army jacket over that.
- Pack backpack. Zippo with fuel and spare flints and wicks. Matches. Plastic lighters. Cigarettes (don’t judge me). Three t-shirts. Three pairs of jeans. Two pairs of shorts. Long underwear. Six pairs of boxers. Six pairs of socks. Combat boots. Hunting knife. Sleeping bag. (not done packing bag yet, but have to go downstairs to get the rest of the stuff.)
- Open door to my room. Walk to my parents room. See if they’re zombies. If they are, kill them with the baseball bat. If not, leave quietly. They’d only slow me down.
- Go downstairs and finish packing bag. Flashlight, tons of all different kinds of batteries. Military rations. Gatorade. Coffee. Portable stove and coffee maker. All the knives. Crowbar. Rope.
- Put my cats in the cat carrier. Bring them outside to my mom’s car. Drive car down the street, go to my neighbor’s house. Go inside. If him and his family are alive, tell them I’m taking his giant plow truck. If they try to fight me off, kill them with scimitar or knife. If they’re zombies, obviously I kill them.
- Take plow truck, with all of the stuff I brought from my house.
- Drive into town. First stop…
- Gun store. Take everything. Kill anyone there, zombie or not.
- Take single handgun and load it preemptively.
- Drive to the falls and check on Eric and Jad. If they are alive, load them into the truck with me. If they’re zombies, I kill them. I assume they’ll be alive though.
- Drive to convenience store. Take all the cigarettes and all of the water.
- Drive to supermarket. Kill any zombies and looters inside. Take all canned goods we can carry as well as fruit and vegetables. Plus jugs of water.
- Drive about twenty minutes into the next town over to the camping supply store/mall area. This place will be crawling with zombies. Shoot everything that moves. First go to Marshall’s and take extra clothes, just necessities. Boots, etc.
- Go to camping store. Get tents, sleeping bags, hiking boots, climbing equipment, survival gear and a canoe. Load them all into the dump truck part of the truck. (Forgot to mention that the plow truck is a dump truck style one).
- Drive to Home Depot. Get building supplies and as many portable generators that we can fit into the back of the truck. Also get empty gas cans.
- Drive to Gas station. Kill everything. Fill ALL gas cans with gas plus refill the plow truck.
- Drive to Dick’s Sporting Goods. Kill everything. Take fishing supplies and all weaponry, plus hunting gear.
- Drive to the most middle of nowhere place we can find. No civilization anywhere, high-ground, with plenty of visibility for us. Preferably some sort of unsettled mountain area.
- Slowly get in contact with other survivors.
and yeah that’s my plan.
• 16 April 2013 • 9 notes
what if cats are actually super happy all the time and they don’t show it because that’s just how cat emotions work. Like a cat could just be laying around, or being all mopey and inside it’s just like “wow this day is literally the best day ever. I’m so happy to be alive!”
and what if dogs are actually super philosophical/sad/suicidal/mentally unstable and in dog emotion they show it by being super outgoing and happy. So a dog could be running around playing and stuff and inside it’s like “this ball I fetch reminds of my happiness for it is controlled by outside forces, and it is forever out of my grasp”
• 14 April 2013 • 4 notes
Am I the only person that is super comforted by the fact that we are all so very small in this massive universe? That we’re just little tiny blips in time. That our life spans are so short they don’t even have any impact on a universal, galactic or planetary scale? That we’re all just made from the ashes of other stuff and that eventually we’ll be ashes that’s getting made into other stuff?
Idk, I get really happy when I think about life that way. Philosophers have spent thousands of years trying to figure out why we’re here but the answer is just so simple and super duper ironic. We’re here to a) exist, b) experience our planet and c) to think about why we’re here.
It’s not worth it doing anything else. Just a waste of time.
• 14 April 2013 • 4 notes
Okay so I’m reposting this (with original poster’s post obviously) just as a refreshed post without all the notes. Please people. Please read this, okay? Because we really are all the same and I’m sick and tired of all of this battle of the sexes crap all the time. Just read this. Feel free to talk to me about it.
advantages of being a boy:
- your boobs don’t get in the way
- no period
- your hormones don’t make you feel like a different person every week
- no childbirth
- penises are fun
- shirts always fit over your chest
- you can walk around topless in summer without being arrested for it
- you store less fat
advantages of being a girl:
- can use your bra as an extra pocket
okay so here we go again with more of this guys have it easier than girls stuff.
- men have hormonal periods as well. We have mood swings. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to have spontaneous outbursts of anger brought on by excessive testosterone? It sucks. I’ve broken all of my fingers on my right hand and cracked my own skull from punching and headbutting shit when I was angry.
- unless dudes are either really nicely built/have a waxed chest/are really comfortable with their bodies, they generally don’t just wander around places with no shirt on. Guys that do are called douchebags.
- men are actually more susceptible to morbid obesity. Women, while yes they store more fat, does not make them fat…fat is well…fat dude! Like big! Like really really big! Idk, I’m not wording this part correctly but long story short, that’s a stupid reason for guys to have it better off.
- Also, on that note, there are A LOT of guys who prefer their women curvy or chubbier. ‘aint no problem with that. The whole stigma of women needing to look a certain way for men to like them is all media, advertising, etc etc etc. In the 40’s 50’s and 60’s there were actually products that were designed to make skinny women (now what we would consider average) look curvier.
- It’s hard as all hell for lanky guys to buy clothes, especially if they prefer form fitting outfits. I had to get my suits tailored so they would fit me correctly because my waist size is super disproportionate to my inseam (leg length). Plus I have insanely broad/muscular shoulders and chest but I’m not very built on my arms so my jacket and dress shirt measurements make it very hard to find off the rack suits and stuff. As far as every day clothes go I know a lot of pretty poor kids who would fucking love to wear like skinny jeans or just form fitting stuff in general and they’re resigned to k-mart and wal-mart baggy jeans and crap t-shirts because they can’t find affordable clothes that fit their body type.
- and on the other end of the spectrum, I know a lot of chubby guys who wish they could wear skinny jeans and would be comfortable with their bodies while wearing said skinny jeans but they have to wear baggy stuff because companies don’t make their sizes because they just assume that fatter guys are going to be self conscious and want to wear baggy stuff to cover up their body.
- on that note, men are given just as much of an unreasonable goal for what we’re supposed to look like. Rugged. Ripped. Tanned. Shaved. Perfect six pack.
- and have you ever watched porn? When was the last time you saw someone with an average sized cock in a porno? I am friends with guys who are so nervous that six inches (above average) won’t be enough for certain girls that they just don’t even bother. That’s fucked man. That ain’t right.
- And you’re right, no childbirth. But we do have to deal with yearly prostate exams once we hit the age of about 25. That means the doctor sticks his fingers into your butt and rummages around in there a bit. Granted, if you’re into that, good for you.
- Also, after a women has a child, the father often experiences extreme detachment from the child, which leads to long term detachment as the child grows up, due to the mother spending a disproportionate amount of time with said child. (Granted there are obviously exceptions to this etc etc etc, but it’s built in to our genetic structure. We did not evolve to be monogamous creatures. The male in most cases moved on and continued having children with other females. However, population growth became a moot point as we grew in culture, and hence monogamy.)
- Also we have to deal with erectile dysfunction (every guy will eventually, sadly). Which I’d imagine is a terribly emasculating experience.
- Also also, we can sit on our balls.
- I’ll repeat that.
- Sometimes we can ACCIDENTALLY CRUSH OUR OWN NUTS BENEATH OUR BODYWEIGHT
- trust me it fucking hurts.
- Also, women have never experienced the exceptional annoyance that is nut-chafing.
- CHAFING IS HORRIBLE
- On a more philosophical level, men are just as insecure as women. What I don’t think that people get is that men and women are just two different sexes of THE SAME SPECIES. WE ARE NOT TWO DIFFERENT FUCKING SPECIES. We all have the same insecurities and anxieties and that’s what makes us fucking human. So when girls say that guys are douchebags, or when they say that guys are always at fault for a breakup or that the guy is ALWAYS the abusive one, or that guys are only interested in sex, or that guys shouldn’t cry, THAT FUCKING HURTS. I’m a human fucking being. I’m not some goddamn jock in an 80s movie. Guys aren’t supposed to all be these hollywood and advertising hero caricatures. We are all different shapes and sizes (just like women) and we all have different fucking personalities. Girls, just because one dude fucked you over doesn’t mean you have to be a dick to ALL men because of it. And same goes to guys by the way, just because one girl broke your heart doesn’t mean you have to go and be the stereotypical asshole that your ex is probably saying you are.
- It’s not always the guy’s fault. And I wish people would realize that. Because it seems that no matter if the guy broke up with the girl or the girl broke up with the guy, the blame will almost always fall on the guy. And a lot of the time, us guys will take that fucking blame to heart and carry that with us for a very long time.
- That being said, it’s not always the girls fault either. I’ve been a total asshole before. I’ll be the first to admit it. And I feel horrible about it.
- But I was doing what I assumed women want out of a guy. What everything seems to say women want out of guys…
- and that’s so fucked up! Because every guy wants something different in a girl and every girl wants something different in a guy and every gay guy wants something different in their respective dudes, and every gay girl wants something different in their respective chicas, ya dig?
- Long story short, WE ARE ALL OF THE SAME SPECIES. WE ARE NOT DIFFERENT SUBSETS. Male and female. Two fucking sexes. I don’t care if you’re gay or straight or trans or bi or you only want to have sex with fresh corpses (though that’s fucked if you do, bro) we all have the same set of primal, evolutionary traits MOLDED INTO OUR FUCKING BRAIN CHEMISTRY. We are all the fucking same. So guys, don’t think that you have to work out to the point where you want to die just to have that perfect six pack like the airbrushed dudes in GQ magazine. Don’t think that you have to be a giant prick in order to find a girl. Don’t think that you have to look like a fucking Ken Doll. Chest hair is fucking badass as hell, (Hugh Jackman. That is all I have to say.) plus shaving it all off is a pain in the ass, and waxing is just like someone pouring lava on your body. And girls, don’t think that you have to wear makeup all the time, and work really hard on your outfits in the morning, and only eat salad when you go out to dinner, and don’t think that you have to do some crazy work out regimen, and please, for the love of fucking god, don’t think that you have to be fucking ORANGE TAN or go to a tanning salon and get skin cancer to make us think you’re sexy. You’re sexy already, trust me/us. Girls: (straight/bi) guys worship the ground you walk on. I don’t think that some of you truly understand that.
- So in conclusion, to both guys and the fairer sex, please stop doing all this crazy shit in order to find the right guy/girl/corpse. Because if there is one thing the internet has taught me, it is that there are people out there who are into EVERYTHING. Nothing is taboo anymore! So stop worrying. No matter who you are, what you look like, what your body type is, what your orientation is, what your ethnicity is, how dark or how pale your skin is, how big or small your tits are, how big or small your dick is…there is someone out there that is going to want to a) have your babies, b) marry you, c) love you, d) put his penis inside you, e) have your penis inside her, or f) all of the above.
- So let’s stop with the whole argument about which sex has it worse ok? Life sucks for everyone, and then we all die. Let’s make the most of it and stop being annoying.
• 11 April 2013 • 12 notes